


Baby, I Got The Death Rattle

by avyssoseleison



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caretaker Dean, Cas and Jimmy are Drama Queens, Castiel and Jimmy Novak Are Twins, Crack, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Making Light of Death, Mention of Bottom Dean, Multi, Polyamory, Sick Castiel, Sick Jimmy, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:05:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5189726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avyssoseleison/pseuds/avyssoseleison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas and Jimmy are sick. Dean has to deal with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, I Got The Death Rattle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ambersagen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambersagen/gifts).



> This fic was written for the amazing ambersagen, who prompted:  
> If you feel like it can I get some Dean/Cas/Jimmy sick!fic where two of them are totally knocked on their buts with sniffles/fevers/chills/general patheticness? Perhaps dangerous illness levels? Or lots of blankets and cuddles and whining please
> 
> The title was, as pretty much always, taken from the same-named song by Los Campesinos!.

It’s been two days, thirteen hours and however many minutes since Castiel and Jimmy have been on their deathbed. 

Or more like, since they have been on _Dean’s_ bed, sneezing and coughing to no end, sweating through his sheets and their shirts and whining about every part of them aching and throbbing and this being a sure sign of their impending death. At the evening of their first real sick day, Dean vaguely started to consider that them actually dying might not be that bad at all, and on the evening of the second day, he’s convinced it would be the best turn of events for the universe, the twins, and especially himself.

“You don’t understand, Dean,” Castiel grumbles in a voice that is even huskier than usual. “The doctor’s diagnosis was very clear about our time on earth being limited. We might have only a few days left or,” he becomes quiet, as if he’s afraid Dean won’t be able to handle the truth, “possibly only hours.”

“I already told the two of you that WebMD does _not_ replace the diagnosis of a real doctor and that you will most definitely _not_ die.”

Jimmy, wrapped around his brother in an attempt to seek warmth against the acute coldness he is currently slave to, trembles his way through a nod and presses even closer into Castiel. “He’s right,” Jimmy says, obviously trying to keep his voice steady, despite the shivers wrecking his body and despite the chatter of his teeth. “I just wish we could have spent more time with you, Dean.”

His blue eyes might be bleary as he looks up at Dean, but they also look honestly sad. It breaks Dean’s heart a little, no matter how annoyed he is by the drama queens that his boyfriends are. 

“Jimmy…” he says, putting a soothing hand on Jimmy’s forehead, uncaring of the cold sweat and that he hasn’t had a shower since a couple of days ago.

Jimmy leans into the touch, his brow furrowed and a sigh slipping from his lips. “I just wish,” he reiterates, with a little pained pause, “I just wish we would’ve had the chance tap your sweet ass one more time.”

Dean just barely catches himself from strangling a sick man to death. Instead, he takes his hand away – the temptation to just kill him right on the spot is too strong and Jimmy doesn’t deserve this kind of comfort after his little drama show – and levels him with a glare. “Maybe _I_ will get a happy ending out of your sickness at least.”

Jimmy whines, probably more because of the pulled back hand than Dean’s words, yet doesn’t even try to follow the hand. All he does is make pathetic little noises, snuggle his face into the crook of Castiel’s probably sweaty neck and moan out, “Cassie…”

“I told you not to call me that,” Castiel complains around a couple of coughs. “And he is right.”

“See? Even Cas is tried of your bullshit – and you’ve known each other literally all your life.”

“No, Dean,” Castiel disagrees in a solemn voice and with an equally as solemn, if also a bit bleary, gaze, “what I meant was that I, too, would give anything for another chance of making love to you.”

“I hope both of you realize that if I just left your sick asses here and didn’t return for the next, oh, week or so, you would be left to your own devices and the bed you are now sweating on and infecting with your flu germs _will_ turn into your deathbed.”

“It’s not just the flu!” both of the twins object vehemently and at the same time, only for them to break off into shivers and pants and coughs right after.

What a couple of dumbasses. 

“Fine, fine. It’s _not just the flu_. Let’s say, it actually _is_ some big, life-threatening sickness, is there anything you want before I go grocery shopping and prepare some tomato rice soup for you? Judging by the snow outside, I’ll probably gone for at least two hours, so choose wisely.”

“Dean, I want to–,” Jimmy begins in his pathetic voice, but Dean quickly cuts him off.

 _“Nothing_ sexual.”

Somehow, Jimmy manages to look defiant despite trembling like a leaf and being all snuggled up to his elder brother. “I'll have you know that there’s nothing inherently sexual about the human body, Dean, so if my request just would have been for you to–”

“I won’t strip and you won’t get to see or touch my ass until you’re all healthy again.” Dean sighs. “Cas, you got anything you want? Nothing that involves my butt, if possible?”

“Yes,” Castiel says, and it sounds laboured. So maybe Dean does feel sorry for them in that moment. Sue him. But only the tiniest of bits.

“Also nothing involving my junk,” Dean clarifies.

“Yes, I understood that. What I want is…” Castiel huffs out through his nose, but it doesn’t seem like he wants to snort in amusement or anything, just that he wants to see if he even gets enough air. “Could you maybe sing for us? I understand that this situation musn’t be easy for you either, with both of your boyfriends being so seriously sick.” Dean would rather say that them being seriously _annoying_ makes the situation much more difficult than anything else, but he’s not mean enough to point it out when Cas sounds so genuine and sad for everyone involved. “But if there’s anything that I would want to be the last thing for me to hear before I go, it would be your singing.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy agrees, quietly and sniffling through his stuffy nose. “I would like that, too.”

And Dean tries not to find this as endearing as he does, tries hard to see this as nothing but dramatic and something he will laugh with Sam about later. But it’s impossible when there’s two twin pairs of sad blue eyes blinking at him over the hem over the blanket, genuine in their request that, would they really be on their deathbed, they would want to have Dean there with him, singing to them.

So, what’s a boy to do. “Okay,” Dean sighs out, “but only if you try to be good and sleep afterwards, until I’m back.”

“Of course,” Castiel says with a sweet smile, and Jimmy nods right beside him.

“If we are still alive by the time you’re back, we want to try your tomato rice soup then,” Jimmy says in earnest.

Dean just snorts. “Always keep your eyes on the prize, huh? Well, but I guess it’s a deal.” He steps closer back to the mattress, and then takes a cautious seat on the far edge of it, making it dip just so. “You really _will_ sleep while I’m away and not get handsy with each other or anything, right?”

“Right,” both of them echo, with varying degrees of credibility. But it’s not like there’s anything Dean could do should they get up to anything instead of sleep. Apart from giving them a good telling-off about it later.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean says, clearing his throat, and he can spy some smiles from behind blanket and feels the mattress move with them shuffling a bit closer. Maybe he actually doesn’t want them to die, after all. 

“Well, then,” Dean murmurs and smiles a bit himself. “Here goes, I guess. _Hey, Jude, don’t make it bad…”_

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [my blog](http://avyssoseleison.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
